Post by Mikki on Jan 12, 2011 19:11:05 GMT -5
Milune
Name: Milune
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Prisoner: No
Crime: N/A
Craft/Rank: Journeywoman (Dragon)Healer
Appearance:
For a Pernese woman, Milune could be considered pretty. In another time and place she may have been considered beautiful, but due to her scarring pretty is the highest she'll get. She is not the tallest individual either, standing at roughly five foot five. But that does little to diminish the presence she carries about herself. There is no Napoleon complex here. No, she carries herself with dignity and confidence. However there is also the typical gentility of a healer about her.
Her movements are always careful, but sure. She's like a cat on a tightrope, graceful but looking as if every step was well planned out. As she prowls along she often wears a smile. Nearly perfect white teeth glint in a heart shaped face. Her cheek bones are high and jaw line narrow. Eyebrows curve over almond shaped eyes and often freely move with her expressions. A modest nose sits above full lips, perfectly straight and dotted with freckles. Though her bottom lip has a small scar, and there is a larger crescent shaped one on her neck. However there is no mistake that she is a woman with such features.
Though not the most startling or exotic of colors her eyes are a pleasant hue. If one were to be poetic they could be described as akin to a light rich honey. Going the other way, one could state that they are simply a lighter version of brown.
Moving along to the rest of her one would find that she takes as much care with her own body as she would another persons. Milune has a strong sense of hygiene. As a result she is meticulously clean and well groomed. The heavy ringlets of her hair have a healthy gloss to them. Washed at least once a day, the thick mass is quite beautiful. Dark chestnut and lighter browns mingle together to make a naturally highlighted mane. It is perhaps her only vanity, second only to her need to stay clean.
Her fair skin is also kept free of dirt. It is a pale cream which tans in the summer sun. She may burn the first time, but usually she is fine. Though this is far from the most troublesome of her skin problems.
Milune is covered in a story of misfortune that is written on her in the form of scars. On her upper arms she has four circular ones, roughly the size of an Earth dime in diameter. There are eight in total there. Her ribs are also marred, four jagged lines slashed roughly across. The beginning of two decorate the underside of her left breast, the other duo on top. As her chest grew in the locations shifted, ending up thus. But the scarring itself spans from her front to the very beginning of her back due to her hasty attempt to twist away from a mauling Dragonet.
The most crippling of her scars though would be the ones on her hip. Talons dug deep, raking from the start of her hip bone and down along her right buttock. Though the wound healed neatly as could be expected there was some scar tissue damage. From time to time it does ache and she fondly refers to it as her weather wound.
If one were to look past the pearly pink scars that decorate her they would see that her body type is one that a fair share may find attractive. Due to her constant activities around the Weyr she is in good physical shape. Milune is of the athletic type. On Earth one would say that she has a dancers build. Instead of bulging mass she has lean wiry muscles. She has long legs and curvaceous hips, leading up to a tapered waist. Her rear is tight and her belly flat with the outline of abs apparent. The fates that be have also been kind enough to gift her with a generous, yet modest bosom. Not bulging out of her shirt, but not flat chested, she is pleased with her appearance.
Back on the topic of bodily strengths though, she isn't built for great feats of it. More agile than anything, the healer can scarcely lift anything heavier than sixty pounds. But considering she is always climbing around or unto dragons, her back and shoulders are also quite strong. She has good flexibility too, able to twist a bit more in certain places than others. In general though, Milune is happy with her appearance and confident with her looks.
Personality:
Outwardly, Milune is calm and level headed. She has cultivated these traits through the progression of her craft to better put distressed patients at ease. The girl strives to be a rock for the injured to lean upon and a confident for the bleeding hearts of their families. At least, that is what she strives to be. That isn't to say that she hasn't inwardly wanted to strangle a few of the people she has dealt with. In fact, when seriously agitated with people the gentle cheer she usually portrays takes on a warped feeling. Think of the clown that always creeped the living daylights out of you at a circus. That would be how the Healer deals with overly annoying patients. If all else fails there's always sedatives.
A tad OCD, the woman likes to organize things. If it's out of place, she'll fix it. If she can't, it'll drive her crazy for the rest of the day. This doesn't just adhere to physical objects, but emotional states of others and injuries as well. Say someone has a shattered leg. Can't align it? Had to amputate it? Insert copious amounts of guilt and just that utter feeling of wrongness, here. There are four pencils in her desk all lined up and one slightly out of place? Yeah, she'll go out of her way to fix it. However, this curious obsessive compulsion only seems to adhere to when she is working.
She also doesn't tolerate stupidity very well. Ignorance she can understand. If someone doesn't know something, they can't help that they were wrong. But someone being flat out stupid for the sake of being stupid? Yeah, no. Milune has been known to bark orders at people. At the hall, she was known to send some of the younger apprentices scattering when they were doing something wrong. In fact she has even kicked a few of them out of the way to correct mistakes that they were making, under the impression that if you want to get something done right you have to do it yourself.
But when dealing with Prisoners? Now that's a different story. Depending on how cooperative the Prisoner is, her moods differ. Incapable of putting up with bullshit, Milune won't hesitate to bluntly tell the offender that they're about to have a needle shoved in their ass if they don't wise up. More than once she has rather ruthlessly injected a sedative into the nearest meaty part on a Prisoner who had attempted to attack her. Screwing with this Healer...is very unwise.
However some of that just melts away when she isn't on duty. She lets the burdens of her craft slip from her shoulders and her hair come down. Off the clock Milune is more outgoing and friendly, even perhaps a little silly. Not above a good joke or some witty banter, she's quite sociable. Generally she's a likable person, but knows she can't be friends with everybody. Some people just don't mesh, and she makes it a point to avoid the people she knows aggravate her.
When placed between the proverbial rock and hard place where she actually has to deal with people she doesn't like, Milune tries her best. In other words she is civilly polite, yet makes no effort to extend the olive branch. She'll chat, deal with them, then make an attempt to make a hasty exit after doing what she had to. Again, she doesn't tolerate stupid well and knows that certain things need delicate handling. Generally, she finds the only delicate way to get something done with someone you don't like is to do it as quickly and efficiently as possible.
But when it comes to the Weyr and Dragons themselves, look out. If ever she hears of holders insulting the nobility and honor of the people who defended Pern from thread for generations, they better run. All her sweetness goes out the window and the claws come out. Usually it's with a stoic coldness, usually. She has gotten into full insult flying action with a couple of people, much to her later embarrassment.
Yet like everybody out there the girl has her flaws. For one she has an unhealthy habit of keeping everything bottled up inside. When she does finally let loose though, it's a proverbial tsunami of emotion. She can completely melt down and it can take her hours, even a day or two, to recover from such an incident. However this really only applies to her personal life. Luckily, those times are few for her.
Her biggest fear though would be the most hindering considering her craft and her location. Milune has an uncontested phobia of brown dragons due to the same traumatic incident that has left her physically scarred. They could be the gentlest of beasts but if they get too close to her she gets slightly antsy. Even a few of the darker colored bronzes make her nervous. Though, her reactions have severely tempered due to her consistent exposure to the beasts.
On top of that she loathes to be pitied. So she has scars? Big deal. They're just another feature as far as she's concerned. The looks can be annoying sometimes. More often than not, she'll politely ask a person to stop staring in such a manner.
Another thing she seems to have a problem with is small children. Their constant screaming and whining sets her teeth on edge. On top of that they're so fragile. She always feels like she's going to break them if she even looks at them wrong. If you want to see her pull her hair out, put her in a room full of screaming babies. Never in the history of Pern will someone have gone crazy faster.
And to put the icing on the would be cake, Milune is a sympathy spewer. In other words, if someone around her starts vomiting she is right there with them. It's quite funny, in a twisted way. She can deal with blood, guts, and gore. But vomit? Now that's a different thing entirely.
History:
On the morning of a particularly chilly spring day a lone woman got a rather astonishing surprise. Her water broke and she went into labor. Now usually this would be an expected occurrence, except that Lareen had no clue she was expecting. A portly woman by nature, she had no signs of a pregnant belly. Her monthly came and went, though it was irregular. It had been light too, but she had simply chalked it up to stress. In fact, she hadn't even felt any movement. So the weaver was quite thoroughly if not pleasantly surprised. Several hours of intense labor later and she gave birth to her third child. It was a girl and her husband named her Milune.
From the time of her birth until she was around four the girl had an easy life. Being born in Benden Weyr afforded her family a couple of comforts that Hold life did not. They were always safe, wanted little for food, and never had to worry about shelter. Her parents were also skilled craft masters so they made enough marks to buy little trinkets to keep their children happy.
As she grew, it was apparent the lass was a bright child. Her eyes were always wide and looking around, taking everything in. During infancy she enjoyed watching her mother work at a loom and laughed often at her brothers antics. She met her first dragon, that she could remember, when she was about four and a half. It was a Blue who had strained a wing during drill practice. Her sire was tending to the injury and she was near by. For a child it was a small act of a deital power that she sat there silently, watching in awe. The dragon was amused, the rider likewise, and her Dad was right there with them. In the years to come, Milune would come to cherish that first memory of dragon kind.
However before she gained the wisdom to appreciate such a memory she went through her more wild years of growth. Her mother had tried and failed to groom her into a Weaver like herself. The child absolutely hated being stuck in a stuffy room with a bunch of boring yarn. Spinning, sewing, darning stockings, she loathed it and took every opportunity she could to escape her mothers clutches. It was much more fun to go mud wrestling with Eaner and Nelran. In turn, she was punished with more sewing. Most of the time it was darning stockings, her little fingers small and steady enough to get in tiny neat stitches in the fragile fabric. Years later, she would thank her Mother for making her sit and sew.
By the time she was eight years old Milune had decided that enough was enough when it came to anything that had to do with weaving. In a fit, she was out of the loom room as fast as her little legs could carry her. Who did she go seeking? Why, her father of course. He always got to be around Dragons, up close that was. She lived in a Weyr but rarely got to really interact with them. Why should she have to sit around in a dusty room with cranky older women when she could be having fun with her Papa?
As one could guess her Mother was not happy to learn that her only daughter had decided she wanted to be like her father. "I was training you to be a weaver!," Lareen had wailed. To which Milune replied, "Weaving is boring! I want to help Dragons and Riders like Papa!". A screaming match ensued which Itumen eventually stepped in and stopped. He slept in the communal dorms for a few days for his efforts but in the end he won his wife over and his daughter got her wish.
The next day, she began her informal training to become a Dragon Healer under her father. True, she didn't really do anything but watch at first. He guided her, telling her and showing her with his own actions how to treat various wounds. She absorbed it like a dry sponge. He really hadn't expected her to be so eager, or so attentive, so was shocked to learn what she did on her own one night. Shocked, and a tad angry.
Two blues had gotten into a fight during a mating flight over a green. Both had come out of it with deep wounds. He had spent the better part of a day patching the two of them up, so didn't really have time to deal with anything else. It was during the last hour or so of mending the second blue that a young boy had come looking for help. His Mother's green firelizard had been swatted by a cat and his right haunch had been cut deep by a sharp claw.
Not knowing what else to do and knowing that her sire was too busy to help, Milune had taken it upon herself to deal with the wounded. Using the knowledge she had learned from Itumen, she tried to make it comfortable. First she slathered it with numbweed, then dabbed it with redwort. She was still only eight at the time, nearly nine, and her skills reflected her age. But luckily for her and the 'lizard her sire was done a short time in. He had come in, assessed the situation, then took over.
However her father was quick to admonish her for acting without his guidance. He threatened to keep from teaching her if she tried to do such a thing again. And of course she had obeyed, but was very disappointed. Hadn't she done good? The truth of the matter was yes, she had done good. But Itumen feared that she would grow too over confident and attempt to go farther on her own if presented with such a situation again. Though, he was pleased that she had kept her head and had realized the extent of her capabilities.
In fact, she had done exceptionally well to the point that her sire realized that she would do better at a Hall. Though technically he was a Journeyman of his craft, he hadn't actually gotten the teaching he should have. He had learned from the previous Dragon Healer of the Weyr, who had learned from hands on experience and a Midwife. But she was still too young for a Hall, even if she did have talent.
Grudgingly, Itumen chose to keep teaching her as best he could. As the years progressed he let her help him with small things, though kept up his verbal instruction. He even made her take notes. By the time she was eleven he gave her enough leash to let her help with dragons that had sore or strained muscles. Some of the wildness in the lass had tamed during this duration too. The unrestrained energy she had exuded had been channeled into learning. She was no where near the woman she would become just yet (she still liked to shove her brothers in the mud) but it was a start.
Three months before her twelfth birthday, there was a hatching at Benden. Like all of the Weyr bred, Milune was given the chance to stand for impression. Being the eager youth that she was the girl took the opportunity. She had been so excited to stand on the sands, dressed in her white robe. Enthusiasm had made her bright eyed and she had gasped with glee as the first dragon hatched.
One by one dragonets hatched and found their partners. But a candidate a few people away from her ended up having a bit of misfortune. When he went to kneel to accept his dragonet he did so on an egg shell. It cut pretty deep and started bleeding pretty badly. Wanting to help and seeing that there weren't that many dragonets left anyway Milune figured she wasn't going to impress. So she wove her way over and attempted to aid the new Weyrling.
Too bad his new blue misunderstood her intentions. The dragonet rammed into her and shoved her way, sending her back a few feet. She stumbled and fell, landing on the ground hard. While in the process of trying to understand what happened to her the poor child ended up meeting a greater plight than the Weyrling she had been trying to help.
The healer lass ended up in the path of a very panicked, very anxious brown dragonet. He didn't care what he had to do or what obstacle he had to go over to get to his. Unfortunately for Milune that obstacle happened to be her. Sharp claws did some very painful and very scarring damage. She got four deep gouges in her right hip from front to back. His front claws ended up getting her ribs as she attempted to twist away, biting to the bone. One talon even nicked her face, splitting her bottom lip and leaving a small crescent scar on her neck. And as the hatchling kicked away from her the tips of his back claws dug into forearms, leaving eight neat puncture wounds.
In all, she was not in good shape. To be honest, she nearly bled to death right there on the sands. If it wasn't for her newly impressed brother A'run she probably would have. He'd ripped his robe off and started pressing on her wounds with the cloth as her father scrambled out of the sands. It was the worst mauling that Benden had seen in years and it left her with physical as well as mental scars. From then on she has always had a particularly hysterical fear of brown dragons. If one gets too close to her she'll start hyperventilating and backing up like a panicked wherry.
Milunes birthday came and went. With it, so did the news that she would be going to the Healer Hall. This both excited her and in a way it relieved her. Though she had mostly healed up from the Hatching fiasco she needed some time away from the Weyr. All dragons were making her nervous at that point, and the milder climate at the Healer Hall would do her some good. They'd learned after she healed that a nerve in her hip had been damaged. On particularly cold days she tended to limp pretty hard and from time to time it ached.
When she got to the Healer Hall though, she quickly found herself devastatingly bored. She knew all of this easy stuff already, and the errands were so tedious it made her want to scream. A bored twelve year old is always a bad thing, so of course she ended up getting into trouble. When punishing her didn't work, she did have a rebellious spirit after all, her Masters looked to other alternatives. One of them finally caught on and realized that she was just bored. So, they gave her more work to do.
Her peers didn't take this very well. They thought she was a 'Masters Pet.'
Jealously quickly reared its ugly head and Milune quickly learned that discretion was the better part of valor. She learned to ignore their jeers and focus on her studies. Well, in most cases. Asserting the backbone she inherited from her father she told quite a few of the other apprentices off. In fact, she even showed them up to shut them up, disproving that she was a brown noser.
But she also learned what it was to be a diplomat. True, most of her peers did not like her for a while. However there were those few who did enjoy her company and for their sake, tolerated the presence of those who scorned her. She tried killing them with kindness, even trying to help them with some of their harder studies. But in the end nothing really worked and she figured that they weren't worth having as friends anyway.
It was this bullying and forced cloistering that ended up tempering her. With it, the determination to succeed. When it came to hands on learning though, she was nervous. Theory was different than actual practice. However the Journeyman who she had been learning under was kind, as was her first patient. The man had been injured in a farming incident. A grain scythe had slashed his thigh and he had required stitches. After talking her through what she had to do Milune did her best to heal the man.
She had been so nervous she nearly burst into tears but pulled through in the end. All those relentless hours of sewing and darning stockings had been a huge help. Her stitches, while not perfect, were even and well placed. The farmer ended up with a scar but healed well and after that she gradually eased into her craft with greater confidence.
By the time she was fifteen she was doing very well for herself in the Healer Hall. She had learned about sickness, disease, wounds, breaks in bones, child birthing, and more. But what she had yet to learn about was how to treat patients with Crackdust withdrawls. This ended up becoming a priority for her around the time she got a letter from her Father. According to the Weyrleaders, things were getting very out of hand.
With her usual enthusiasm the budding young woman threw herself into research...and quickly regretted it. Some of the symptoms were rather horrible. She saw people pull their hair out, bite at their flesh, and one even tried to attack one of the healers. It was pretty gruesome to watch.
Most of her childish innocence vanished out the window as she further progressed with this line of study. She sobered, became calmer as with maturity came grains of wisdom. By sixteen she was more comfortable and at ease with the things she saw on a day to day basis. Though vomit would always send her racing for the door. That was the only thing she seemed to have a problem with when it came to ailing the sick.
It was around this time that she started noticing queer things when it came to the differences between Holds and Weyrs. The main one was that there seemed to be an awful lot of chatter concerning the whether the Dragonriders were doing enough. This didn't sit well with the Weyrbred girl. Whenever she came across such a conversation she usually gave them a verbal slap in the face, quickly reminding them that a dragon was a dragon. More than once she got in trouble for arguing with her betters, but she was fiercely loyal to Dragonmen and their noble beasts no matter what color they were.
So it really wasn't much of a surprise when shortly after she walked the tables at about eighteen that she put in to transfer to a Weyr. It was around then that she also acquired Glint, her Gold firelizard. The egg that she hatched from had been a gift from her Sire. He'd managed to procure it after saving and scraping up marks for a few turns. Honestly, neither of them had expected it to hatch into a gold. But it did, and Milune wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Three or so days after her firelizard hatched, the healer got approved to transfer to Warden. At first she wasn't exactly thrilled with this prospect. Though after a seven day of deliberation she figured it was probably for the best. Healers had caused this mess in the first place, it should be Healers who fixed the broken souls left behind in the wake of the Crackdust.
Arrival at the Weyr was uneventful for the most part. The Warden was an..interesting man. She didn't dislike him, but he was an acquired taste of a fellow.
A month later marked a most interesting day for the woman. Milune got to experience her first Prisoner attack. The man had been of middling height, was suffering crackdust withdrawals, and was just down right aggressive. She hadn't honestly expected him to lunge at her, or put a scalpel to her throat. Yet before even Glint had a chance to react, she was moving with a cold efficiency that scared even her.
There had been a sedative needle in her pocket. Pianist fingers had wrapped around the instrument and whipped it out, stabbing it in the mans eye before he had a chance to blink. The entire thing was unloaded into him, right into his brain through his ocular nerve. He screamed, threw her away from himself, and pulled the needle out of his eye while howling. But within moments, he was on the floor convulsing, then passed out cold. He ended up going into a coma and nearly dying from the over dose of sedatives right to his brain. Unfortunately, he got to live.
After that Milune has taken a distinctly different approach when dealing with Prison patients. She will only give them one warning, and then they're getting a needle in the neck if they put a single toe out of line.
Other stuff:
Pets
Name: Glint
Species: Firelizard
Color: Gold
Appearance: At roughly three foot long, Glint is big. She isn't the largest shelled firelizard Queen out there, but she's large enough to kill a cat if she wanted to. Though for her size she isn't bulky. More serpentine and slinky, she's rather slender. Her tail is long and can loop twice around Milune's neck if she chose to. She has slender pinions and her wing membranes are almost too big for her wings. But this allows her to scoop more air and fly faster.
Coloration wise she isn't very remarkable. From nose to tip she's a light shade of buttery yellow, with darker orangy-brass along her underbelly. This coloring also spots along the underside of her neck, and tips the forks of her tail.
Personality: Let us just say that this Gold isn't exactly the nicest of creatures. She's overbearing, over protective, and won't hesitate to scratch someones eyes out if they so much as look at her mistress wrong. This little blighter doesn't trust anybody at Warden until they prove that they are worthy to be trusted. Yet on the flip side, Glint can be nice if she feels like it. Oh she won't be all over someone purring like a kitten, but she'll let people pet her and feed her. She is all Queen, and quite vain. Lavished attention is welcomed, as long as people don't get too touchy. And yes, she does bite.
Dragon
Name Caninth
Age Hatchling
Color Brown
Hex CC6633
Desc
Caninth is a handsome boy, medium sized for his color and thick-built. He doesn't have much stamina and not a huge wingspan, but the boy is made out of muscle. A dark mask covers most of his face while his wings, stomach, and bottom of his tail/legs are covered with the same darker brown
Personality
Caninth is not a dragon to be messed with - he is obsessive, a wee bit vicious, and is unfortunately under the impression that he is merely 'misunderstood' by the world at large. No matter how you put it, Caninth is a stubborn and persistant male with little else on his mind other than getting what he wants.
And does he ever covet.
Caninth wants many things, even if it's something such as that particular wherrie, the green in Flight, or even as something as outragious as that Candidate. he sets his sights and goes for it, putting his all and very life at stake to get it. he will fight tooth and nail for the wherrie, green, or Candidate. If/when he fails (and he will), Caninth falls into a smoldering vengeful rage and bides his time until he is able to strike back (and he will).
Though not the largest or most intelligent of his clutch (or ever), Caninth is a bully. He and Djith dislike one another for the simple reason that they are both intent on getting what it is they want from other people. Caninth will use his thick stature to try and intimidate others into submission. It's a good thing that dragons cannot harm humans due to the simple fact that if Caninth felt the need to eat a person to get what he wanted... Well. It's a good thing dragons can't hurt humans. He will use his strength and teeth if need be in getting that obsessive fix.
In the matter of Flights, Caninth will give Chase if Knighth does. He has a serious grudge against the other male and will thus see fit to try and beat him out for any and every Flight, no matter what color female Rises.
Don't mess with His. Caninth and his pack mentality won't stand for someone poking fun at or harassing His in any way he feels may endanger them. His is His because His is the BEST (or best he could get, but thus the BEST because only they get their Caninth) and if you're going to mess with the best, Caninth will bite your face.
Why Me?
Oh, Milune. Caninth originally thought the girl of the perfect prey: terrified of browns, small, soft, female. And that may outwardly seem the only reason he chose her. Truth of the matter is that Caninth trusts in her to become stronger for facing her fear of him and her dominant, take charge, firm personality makes her a good leader for him. She is the very best of the Candidates in his eyes, perhaps the best ever. While Milune may originally bawl at the thought of having this large brown, Caninth will prove himself to be a worthy dragon, going as far as to take advantage of others in order to further Milune and her desires.
